


Mortified

by rubberupandmakeitstarker



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Edging, Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Premature Ejaculation, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 15:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16066319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberupandmakeitstarker/pseuds/rubberupandmakeitstarker
Summary: So today, with Peter sat by his side, someone sitting at the end of the table going on about publicity or... something, Tony thinks nothing of it to slip a hand up Peter’s thigh. Or to tease his fingers over his crotch. Or to palm him through his pants. He wasn’t expecting the choked moan he gets in response, or all of the eyes that land on them as a result.Tony can’t even blame Peter. The kid is mortified, face beet red and eyes glued to the floor. When the (extremely tense) meeting finally ends, Tony whisks Peter into the nearest empty office, profusely apologizing for not checking in with him before trying something in public. When his apology is met with Peter crushing his lips into his, followed by Peter’s erection being pressed forcefully into his hip, Tony realizes that the shame might not actually bother Peter that much.





	Mortified

Tony isn’t used to managing someone Peter’s age. He’s grown accustomed to older people, well seated in their sexuality and their ability to control it. When things turn sexual with Peter, Tony has to really backpedal with what he is used to doing with partners. He has to pay attention, slow down, take things at Peter’s pace. 

It takes a while for Tony to fully get used to. In previous relationships, teasing during the day was standard. A little grope here and there. A kiss or three when they could be snuck in. Sitting side-by-side during meetings is really where the ante is upped, relentlessly teasing hands over laps and driving each other mad until they can finally leave and find a vacant broom closet.

So today, with Peter sat by his side, someone sitting at the end of the table going on about publicity or... something, Tony thinks nothing of it to slip a hand up Peter’s thigh. Or to tease his fingers over his crotch. Or to palm him through his pants. He wasn’t expecting the choked moan he gets in response, or all of the eyes that land on them as a result.

Tony can’t even blame Peter. The kid is mortified, face beet red and eyes glued to the floor. When the (extremely tense) meeting finally ends, Tony whisks Peter into the nearest empty office, profusely apologizing for not checking in with him before trying something in public. When his apology is met with Peter crushing his lips into his, followed by Peter’s erection being pressed forcefully into his hip, Tony realizes that the shame might not actually bother Peter that much.

The rest of the day is spent seeing just how much Peter can take. Tony drags Peter along with him through Stark Tower, visiting clients, signing paperwork, anything he can think of that puts Peter under the scrutiny of others. Tony is sure to fit in plenty of teasing exchanges, quick rolling of hips that has Peter begging into his mouth before he is walking away, forcing Peter to try (and fail) to hide his near constant erection. Peter can’t look anyone in the eye, his face hot with embarrassment, and it only turns him on more.

By the end of the day, when they finally return to the privacy of Tony’s office, Peter is nearly falling apart. He is clinging to Tony as soon as the door closes, hands trembling, hips seeking the heat of his mentor.

“Please, Mr. Stark!” Peter begs quietly. His sharp gasp pierces the room when Tony forcefully turns his body around and rubs a hand over the front of his pants. Peter’s head falls back against Tony’s shoulder and he sobs, his hands grasping back frantically, searching for anything to keep him anchored upright. The dull friction has Peter puffing out urgent breaths within seconds.

“You could come in your pants right here, couldn’t you?” Tony murmurs into Peter’s ear, voice dark. “You couldn’t hold it if you tried. Just a little boy pretending to be a man.”

They mutually ignore how on-the-nose Tony’s words are. How Peter, at 16, truly cannot be faulted for his lack of stamina, especially after the day he’s had.

Something about the particular adjectives Tony uses to describe him has Peter shuddering, his voice small as he whimpers, “Yes, daddy...” Tony’s hand slips down the front of his pants, his palm twisting around Peter’s weeping head. Peter panics, all the pressure of the day suddenly coming to rest behind his cock. “Wait, wait!”

Tony represses a /fuck/, instead dropping his voice even lower to hiss, “You’ve had a really big day, huh? Does my little boy need to come?” When he realizes that all of Peter’s focus is going into not bursting in his hand, Tony stops his movements. Peter makes a harsh sound, somewhere between relief and disappointment. “What do you need, baby?”

“To come, I need to come, please, please daddy, it hurts, please!” Peter sobs, his hips twisting with effort not to thrust into Tony’s hand. Tony’s swivels his wrist once, and Peter nearly loses his footing with how violently his body jerks in response. “Oh god don’t stop, don’t- don’t-!”

Tony takes the three steps back required to settle himself in his office chair, Peter sprawled open across his front. “I know baby, I know.” Tony coos, though he is almost drowned out by Peter’s wobbly, broken cries. “It’s really hard to wait sometimes. Being a big boy is very difficult.” Tony carefully removes his hand from Peter’s pants and pulls open his button and zipper. He tugs Peter’s cock from his underwear and points it away from them as he starts stroking him. 

“Daddy- Daddy I’m gonna- please daddy can I come?!” Peter splutters out, his knees rubbing together with effort to contain himself. “Oh god please daddy I’m- I can’t-!”

Tony pauses his hand again, arousal burning in his gut at the way Peter squirms, practically crying because he is so close. “Are you sure you can’t wait until we get home? If you come now, you’ll make a mess all over the carpet. Anyone who sees it tomorrow morning will know /exactly/ where it came from.”

The thought of Tony’s colleagues knowing that he stained his carpet with come has embarrassment welling in his chest, and his hips struggling to move. “I’m sure, I’m- please!” Tears drip down Peter’s cheeks and his feet kick pitifully. “I need it, please daddy, it hurts, please!”

“Come for daddy, sweetheart.” Tony says lowly, pumping Peter’s cock once, twice, and watching Peter’s release pulse onto the floor. Peter gives a pained shout, his hips snatching into Tony’s fist.

“Fuck, fuck-“ Peter pants, wilting against Tony’s chest as he calms down. Tony’s cock is hard beneath his ass, and Peter plants his feet to push the chair backwards away from his fluid on the floor. Peter turns and drops to his knees with a dull thump, looking up at Tony with tired eyes. “M’sleepy.”

Tony smiles warmly, petting his fingers over Peter’s face. “Let me take you home, then.”

Peter shakes his head, pulling lazily at Tony’s pants until he raises his hips for him to pull them down. Peter takes Tony into his mouth, crossing his arms over Tony’s knees to rest his chest on.

Staring at Peter’s motionless body, Tony asks, “What are you-?” But he is cut off when Peter grabs his hand and places it on the back of his head, pushing at his fingers to tighten in his hair. “Oh, you lazy boy.” Tony is eager to pick up the slack, fisting Peter’s hair and lifting his head, pushing down experimentally until he feels Peter push back against his hand. 

It is several minutes before there is a sound other than the wet movements of Peter’s mouth. Tony watches with hungry eyes, Peter’s face flushed and his lips red with irritation. Tony brings his other hand to Peter’s mouth, running his thumb gently over Peter’s stretched lips. Tony hooks his thumb into the corner of Peter’s mouth and pulls it away from his cock, groaning quietly at the gush of slobber that leaks down his shaft. He pushes Peter’s head down as far as he will go, signified by a sharp gag. Misty, brown eyes look up at Tony with a pietism that has his balls tightening. “Fuck, baby.”

Peter gargles a moan when Tony’s other hand, still wet with spit, tangles in his hair along with the first. His head is moved roughly, at a speed that has him vaguely acknowledging that his neck will be sore tomorrow, until he is again pushed down Tony’s length until he heaves. Wet heat invades his throat and he pulls away choking, Tony’s release landing on the carpet only a few feet from Peter’s.

Tony drags him back into his lap and uses his own shirt to wipe Peter’s mouth. His cock is hard again between them, leaking and insistent, untouched by Peter’s hand without even having to be told. Tony considers tucking it back in Peter’s underwear and sending him home now, to assure he will be needy and ready for him in the morning. If not for the distant look in Peter’s eyes that has him worried he might react poorly to rejection, Tony probably would. Instead, Tony wraps his fingers around Peter’s cock. He makes quick work of having Peter’s arms wound around his neck, sobbing out a warning that he didn’t have to give. Tony’s other hand swoops in to cover Peter’s head, catching what Peter has to give him in his palm.

Peter pants coarsely into Tony’s collar. Tony arm jerks downward at the side of his chair, and Peter hears the wet splatter of his second orgasm hitting the floor. If he weren’t actively falling asleep, he’d be thinking about what people will think when they see it in the morning, and the shame that would blossom in his chest would only spark arousal.

“Are you ready to go home now, baby boy?” Tony mumbles, his own exhaustion catching up with him, but Peter is already asleep.


End file.
